


Turnabout is Fair Play

by firefright, Skalidra



Category: Batman - All Media Types, DCU (Comics)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Gods & Goddesses, Consent Issues, Deception, Forced Bonding, M/M, Mildly Dubious Consent, Plot Twists, Sacrifice
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-26
Updated: 2020-04-26
Packaged: 2021-03-02 03:08:51
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,003
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23858119
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/firefright/pseuds/firefright, https://archiveofourown.org/users/Skalidra/pseuds/Skalidra
Summary: Slade's not unused to receiving gifts. As a god of war, mortals think they can buy his favor with sacrifices of everything from gold to their own relatives, and if it leads to tribute on his doorstep, he sees no reason to correct them. His latest gifts, however, in the form of two half-mortal boys called Dick and Jason, are something far more unusual than anything he's received before. He's never been able to resist something in need of conquering, after all, though it does always come with... risks.
Relationships: Dick Grayson/Jason Todd/Slade Wilson
Comments: 28
Kudos: 349
Collections: SladeRobin Weekend 2020





	Turnabout is Fair Play

**Author's Note:**

> Hello all! Here's our joint fill for this weekend's SladeRobin event and the prompt 'War Prize', featuring war god Slade and sacrifices Dick and Jason. We hope you enjoy reading it!

They’re beautiful, the pair of them. Twin offerings that are enough to make even an old god like him stop and take interest.

Ordinarily, Slade wouldn’t be so easily wooed by such a sacrifice. Every day of every hour around the world, such things are gifted to him by mortals. So called priests and priestesses that desperately seek his favour through every kind of valuable they can lay their hands on; gold, jewels, precious metals, and indeed, beautiful men and women. They lay them all at his feet, forgetting the baseline of just who it is they’re trying to appeal to.

He is a war god, and as such, he cares far more about what he can conquer himself than what he is given.

These two, though… there is something different about them when the prayers ping his senses. Something that intrigues him enough not to just slay the whole congregation for the insult, and instead draw the two pretty things back into his domain to be explored and played with at his leisure.

Neither is conquered at all, to begin with. They’re bound, wrapped — and unwrapped — in chains and nothing else, but the varying shades of their blue eyes are equally heated, undamped by captivity, or their current situation. Most mortals quail when put face to face with a god.

But then, neither of them are fully mortal. The larger one has the obvious sign, a sharp streak of white hair over his temple against the otherwise black strands. He has the chill of death in his soul, and the warmth of a god’s touch burning at his core to keep it back, letting him carry on with his assigned purpose. That one’s a rider. Different names for different pantheons, but Slade respects those that live to escort fallen warriors to their final harbors, regardless of what they call themselves. They serve as the one true neutrality in all the petty bickering of the gods; or they’re supposed to, anyway.

The other one meanwhile… the other one burns with life. Rage. Oh make no mistake, they’re both angry, but in the smaller man, that anger transcends itself to the sharpness of a blade, with a familiar, self-righteous edge.

It’s _justice_ that sits in his core, and to Slade that is yet another boon in keeping him. He enjoys any chance to rile the gods of Justice’s domain for their hypocrisy in trying to convince mortals that life can be in any way fair. Yet at the same time, he can’t deny he enjoys how the thirst for it can make them fight harder than almost anything else, other than survival. And this boy wants to fight him. Slade can taste it in his soul, in his thoughts. He’s practically begging for it, which only makes his own interest rise higher.

How had those mortals managed to capture two such as these? It must have been a hell of a thing, to bind both a rider and warrior. Maybe he’ll ask them later, once he’s done sating his hunger in other areas first.

“Tell me your names.” he commands, taking pleasure in surveying their individual responses to even that minor order.

The taller one looks surly and rebellious, while the shorter actually bares his teeth. He’s the prettier out of the two, with lightly tanned skin where his companion’s is pale, dark blue eyes instead of teal, and straight black hair that shines like a raven’s wing. “Our names aren’t yours to know.”

“That’s funny.” Slade says, “Considering that you belong to me now, I’d say everything about you is mine to know.” He leans forward in the chair to which he’d apparated, while the two of them are knelt on the floor. “Come now, boys, surely your names are not that harmful to share?”

They exchange a look, which gives him another clue that they are already familiar with each other, at least in a passing sense.

“Jason,” the taller one says begrudgingly.

The second holds out a few seconds longer before sighing and following in his companion’s wake. “Dick.”

“Jason, Dick.” he repeats after them, just to taste the syllables in his mouth. “I suppose that last one is short for Richard?”

The boy doesn’t answer him, just clenches his jaw obstinately.

Slade’s smile grows wider. “You know who I am, of course.”

“The God of War.” Jason says, shifting restlessly in his chains. Then more snidely adds, “One of them, anyway.”

There’s a lot of strength contained in his muscles, Slade notes with pleasure, while Dick looks more built for speed and agility. It’s a good combination, should they have the sense to try and work together. “Yes, but you can call me Slade, if you wish. It’s been a long time since I had two such as you here.”

"Unwilling sacrifices?" Dick quips, immediately. "I doubt it."

The confirmation that they both have the kind of mouths that are likely to get them in trouble brings a smirk to Slade's face. He pushes off the chair, stands to tower over them both for a moment, watch how they shift and pull slightly back. With their wrists bound to ankles like they are, neither has any chance of escape, even if this realm didn't reshape itself to his every whim. They do so clearly want to move, though. Stand, face him as equally as they can, as lesser beings. It's tempting to let them.

He reaches down, easily avoids the snap of teeth attempting to close on his fingers and takes Dick's throat in hand, pulling him up to a high kneel despite the vicious yank against his grip. "No, little mortal," he murmurs, scraping a thumb over the delicate skin, pressing in hard enough to make the boy's breath catch. "Gifts that don't make me want to snap their necks out of sheer boredom."

There's a flicker in Dick’s eyes, a momentary flash of fear there and gone again, but otherwise the jut of his jaw remains stubborn and brave. Defiant even, as he refuses to cower back from him. The urge is there, warm and alluring, to _make_ him.

"Hey!" the other one snaps, drawing his attention to the sea-colored eyes. "Let go of him.”

_Protective._ That’s almost cute in a way. Slade gives him a smile that’s bordering on indulgent. “Or you’ll what?”

Now Jason bares his teeth too. "You let me out of these chains and you'll find out. You don't scare me."

That pulls a chuckle from him. "So if I don't agree to your demand, you'll… Do nothing till I choose to release you? Truly a masterful threat, boy. I'm sure it sounded better in your head."

His face turns red, and Jason glowers at him, “Fuck you!”

“Soon enough, pet, but not right now.”

Somehow, the boy blushes even harder, but this time it’s Dick who spits back, “Does it give you pleasure to mock those who can’t fight back against you?” His voice is slightly strained by the grip Slade still has on his throat. “Pretty pathetic for a war god.”

The attempt at manipulation would be irritating, if it wasn't entertainingly naïve. "It speaks to who you worship that you think war has anything to do with being fair, little warrior. Your friend over there can probably tell you more about that.” He looks at Jason. “Tell me, boy, did it feel particularly fair when you died?”

Jason looks caught, like the fox before the hound. “I didn’t… I didn’t die in war. I was murdered.”

“Jason!” Dick hisses.

Hm, that’s interesting. Slade could sense violence in it, but nothing more. His realm isn’t death, after all. What a life and soul he must have had, to be chosen to be a rider without even dying a warrior's death. “But it still wasn’t fair, was it?” He shakes his head before Dick’s outraged look. “In war, like life, only fools play by the rules, boy. Justice is just a lie the losers make up to comfort themselves.”

With a twist of his hand, he lets go of Dick’s neck and straightens back up.

“But if you are so insistent on a practical lesson, I suppose I can indulge you. Especially when whether I decide to keep you after this is entirely dependent on how valuable you prove yourselves.”

That catches both their attention.

“What happens to us if you don’t decide to keep us?” Jason asks.

Slade smirks and snaps his fingers, vanishing the chains like vapour. “Guess.”

To their credit, neither lunges forward to attack him immediately. They get to their feet, share a glance with each other that speaks, again, to their apparent familiarity.

Jason's the one to add, "And what if we win?"

As if they could. Slade's gone a long time without being bested, even by the gods he actually considers rivals. These boys stand only the slimmest chance.

"I'll be _impressed_ ," he mocks, and then points out, "We're not bargaining, boys. You don't have anything to trade."

“How about our cooperation?”

Slade stills. Dick is the one who said it, while shifting subtly in a way that suggests he’s trying to work out the stiffness from his muscles after being chained up for so long without being obvious about it. “What?”

“Our cooperation.” the boy repeats, while Jason shoots him an incredulous look from the side. “If we win, you let us go. But if we don’t, then… then we’ll do whatever you want us to.”

He studies the boy, and that hint of embarrassed flush high on his cheeks. "I don't need your cooperation to get what I want from you, you know. I'm a god, boy; I can make you feel or do anything I like."

Dick holds his gaze with a steadiness most mortals can't match. "But it won't be real. Not if you force us. If what you want is our surrender, _real_ surrender, you're only going to get it if we give it ourselves. Willingly."

"Or if I break your spirit. An occupying force works just as well as a surrender."

He can trace the thick swallow through the bob of the boy's throat. "Yes. So what way do you prefer, Conqueror?"

An inarguable thrill of pleasure runs through Slade at the title, and he gives Dick yet another thoughtful glance. This one’s clever with words, as well as defiant.

“How about you, boy?” He looks at Jason. “Are you in accord with your friend? I will require your word as well, from your own lips, if I am to agree to this.”

Jason sucks on his teeth as he thinks it over, looking far less certain of the idea than Dick is. Eventually, though, he must reach the same conclusion he has: that this deal is their only possible way out of this situation, even if it is a long shot.

“I am.” he says. “But only if you put yourself on equal footing with us first.”

Slade raises an eyebrow inquiringly.

The boy flushes. “No weapons or armour. We’re unarmed and...” he hesitates over the word, betraying an enticing awkwardness. “ _Naked_. It wouldn’t be fair.”

“There’s that word again,” Slade says, “‘Fair’. But I suppose on this occasion I can accommodate you, if only because it will make this more fun.” He snaps his fingers again, only this time around it’s his clothes and sword that vanish. “Better?”

Jason chokes a little at the sight of his bare skin, as he predicted, but Dick manages to keep his cool. “Yes.”

“Good.” Slade purrs, before crooking his fingers at them in a beckoning motion. “Then come at me, boys, if you’re so confident that you’re strong enough to earn your freedom.”

Now they move, swift and sure. Dick catapulting himself forward first, though Jason is not far behind him.

Stepping forward to meet them, Slade openly smirks.

Oh yes, he is most certainly going to enjoy this.

* * *

The next morning, Slade awakens from what passes for sleep amongst gods with two warm bodies tucked in on either side of him, as well as a profoundly smug sense of self-satisfaction.

Last night had gone as well as he could have hoped, with both boys fighting valiantly. Then, after their battle’s inevitable end, holding to their word of giving their full cooperation for everything else.

Such sweet surrender… Slade had not wasted a single moment in enjoying everything they had to offer once he had it. First by taking them himself, then watching them with each other. Over and over again, until finally the poor little mortal borns, with only a sliver of godly power each to sustain them, had been too exhausted to continue and passed out.

Of course, he could have revived them then, but the way he figured it, a good performance earned them a reward. Even if it was just something as simple as sleep. And anyway, there’ll be plenty of time for that later, now that he’s made the decision to keep them for real.

Stretching luxuriantly out on his bed, Slade allows himself a moment to admire the many glorious inches of bare skin each boy presents, before pushing up and out from between them. As much as he’d like to remain languishing in bed and enjoying his new toys all day long, he is still the god of war, and there are matters he needs to attend to. Battlefronts he needs to check and mortal passions to inflame.

Opening his mind to the currents of conflict around him, Slade stretches out his senses to the nearest one, and finds…

… nothing.

He pauses mid-step, frowning, before concentrating and drawing deeper on the well of power he holds within himself to try again. Only the results are the same. Where he should feel anger, violence and death, instead he finds only an empty echo, and the harder he tries, the more he finds himself faltering.

That power he’s always known, endless as the open sea, it’s not responding to him. At most, all he can pull through is a trickle. Just enough to make him realise the full extent of what is gone.

_What in all the realms..._

“Something wrong?”

Slade pivots on his heel, turning back towards the bed. A minute ago, he could have sworn Dick and Jason were still sound asleep, but now they’re both wide awake, sitting up and looking at him. There’s no apprehension in their eyes like there was last night, either. No defiance. Only…

Expectation.

He narrows his eye. “What did you do?”

“What did we do?” Jason echoes, looking at his companion. “I don’t know. Did we do something, Dick?”

“We may have, Jason.” Dick replies, meeting Slade’s gaze steadily. “How are you feeling, war god?”

“Like I’m about to kill you if you don’t give me an answer.” Slade says. And likely even then, he’ll gladly take the head off of each of them, no matter how pretty they are.

Stretching out his hand, he attempts to summon a weapon, only to growl when nothing happens. He can feel his armoury on the edge of his senses, yet when he tries to draw something from it, the connection fizzles and drops.

No matter, his bare hands will do plenty well in place of steel in this case. Such an egregious insult deserves a personal touch, as well as as much pain as he can muster.

Slade starts to stride purposefully forwards towards the boys, but once he gets back within five feet of them, suddenly he staggers, then stumbles, as if hit by a wave. A wave that then sends him crashing down to his knees with a snarl of startled incredulity.

“Yeah,” Jason says mildly, from the bed, “I wouldn’t try to do that if I were you.”

“Explain,” he growls, as he struggles to regain his feet. “Now!”

“You can’t hurt us, Slade.” Dick answers him. “Not now. It’s too late for that. It was too late the moment you took us for your own.”

Slade’s brow wrinkles in confusion, alongside the unfamiliar sensation of dizziness. He stretches out again, feeling for his power, finding the shore of it and trying to tug. Then, when the same result happens as before, trying to follow where it is going, if not to him.

The results of his investigation astound him. Twin connections, pulsing where they have no right to be, and draining what is his before he can even reach it.

“You…” he says, in a tone that’s almost wondering. “You’re drawing away my strength. How?”

“Haven’t you got it yet, old man?” Jason says, even more brazen than before. “All those offerings you’ve had in the past, the ones you found so insulting you just killed them outright, then all of a sudden you get us. Two fighters, not soft and not tamed. _Exactly_ what you’ve been hungering for.”

Slade wants to rip out his guts for his insolence. He wants to fuck him again.

“You were a trap.”

“We were.” Dick replies, putting a hand on Jason’s forearm and squeezing it to quiet him. “Are. It took a while to figure out how to contain you. Longer to put in place the tools needed to do it, but here we are.”

“Explain.” Slade demands again, making it back to his feet with a concentrated effort.

“Two mortal borns, divinely touched,” Dick says, “With ties to two other realms of influence that are heavily influenced by war.”

“Death and justice.” Jason adds, more darkly. “Forces that represent both the perpetrators and the victims.”

“There’s more to it, of course,” Dick continues smugly, “Incantations, components… things that happened before you ever laid eyes on us. But the important thing is you claimed us of your own free will. And not just that. We fought, had sex… You bound us to you, and that bond doesn’t just go one way.”

“Think of us as your own personal leeches, Slade.” Settling his head comfortably against Dick’s shoulder, Jason smirks at him. “Here to make sure you don’t abuse your power against mortals any more than you already have.”

Slade stares at them. He doesn’t miss the purposeful omission of the exact details of what went into making this possible — all the better to stop him from working out how to counteract it, he’s sure. “You really think you can stop war? I don’t make the mortals fight, boys, that desire is already in them. With or without my interference, they’ll still find ways to kill each other.”

“We know that.” Dick answers sharply, while sucking in a breath. “Stopping it entirely isn’t our goal.”

“Stopping you from pushing it past its natural end for your own amusement is.” The flash of hostility from Jason is a beacon that in his current state Slade has to fight not to lean towards. “Too many people have suffered already. _Innocent_ people.”

“‘Innocent people’.” he snorts. “That’s a very human view, boy.”

“We were born human, if you haven’t noticed.” Jason’s smirk is gone, and he lifts his head back up from Dick’s shoulder. “We’ve lived through the consequences of what happens after your glorious battles are done, unlike you.”

Dick’s hand moves to Jason’s arm, in what is clearly meant to be comfort. His anger isn’t as open now as his companion’s, but Slade can still feel it, like a razor’s edge that will continue to cut long after Jason’s flame has burnt itself out. “Justice and Death are tired of cleaning up after your messes, Slade.”

“Justice and Death can go fuck themselves!” Slade snaps back. “You don’t have the right.”

“Such a shame battles aren’t fair then, isn’t it?” Dick doesn’t drop his gaze for an instant. “We won’t break the natural order. We’ll let wars happen where they must, but what we won’t allow is you to inflame conflict where peace should have been built, the way you have been doing.”

“So you can either come to terms with and work with that,” Jason jumps in, “Or we’ll keep draining you to the point you can’t even start a bar room brawl by the time we’re done with you.”

Slade’s lips pull back in a snarl, but at the same time, he also feels a kernel of a rather different emotion take hold inside his chest alongside the rage.

Intrigue. Curiosity. _Fascination_.

How long has it been since he was last bested by someone? Has he ever been? Slade stretches back his memory and finds it lacking of any such occasion, and now that it has happened, it’s because of two mortal-born champions, employing the sort of underhanded deviousness he can’t help but admire in a foe.

He never saw it coming. Never even deigned to think that two such as these could get the better of him. It’s different, unique. A new kind of thrill he’s never felt before, because now that the initial humiliation and anger are passing, a new level to the encounter is rising.

This is a challenge. _They_ are a challenge. A real one, finally, after all these years, and Slade…

Slade wants to pull these boys apart, in any way he can. He can’t resist a fight. It’s in his blood to respond to them. The very fabric of his being yearns for it: conflict and struggle in every form.

Yes, he can work with this, he realises. It’s not ideal but…

Quelling the last of the fury from his face, Slade breathes in deep and smiles. “Bravo, boys. Well done. You’ve got the better of me, at least for now. But surely you can’t expect this state of affairs to last forever?”

“We don’t.” Dick says, and for the first time there’s a flicker in his resolve that Slade can feel, there and gone again. “And we know that the day you do break free, you’ll most likely kill us for doing this, but until then, we’ll hold you for as long as we can. Long enough for the world to recover, at least, from all you’ve done to it.”

“Kill you?” Slade muses, “Yes, perhaps. Or maybe I’ll just keep you as true pets and trot you out to play with anytime I feel like it.”

“We’re not scared of anything you can do to us, war god.” Jason, the one who already knows Death’s embrace, says. “We never would have volunteered to do this in the first place if we were.”

He laughs, full and hearty, “We’ll see about that.” before allowing his eye to drift across their naked bodies with desire again.

They shiver in reaction, and ah, Slade feels that too. Perhaps this bond is good for something on his end as well as theirs.

“Slade…” Dick says warningly, when he starts to prowl towards them again, but with a different kind of aggression than what triggered their defenses before.

Nothing happens, and so Slade smiles as he reaches out his hand, brushing his fingertips across the boy’s jaw.

“You want me tame,” he purrs, dark and meaningful, “And that leash you hold in your hands could leave us trapped together for centuries. I don’t know about you both, but I can think of far more pleasant ways to spend that time than glaring at each other in silence from opposite sides of the room.”

They lean towards him slightly despite themselves, and oh yes, Slade is definitely going to have fun testing the limits of this binding of theirs in the days to come.

“Whatever you try to get loose from this, it won’t work.” Jason warns him, only to bite his lip when Slade raises his other hand to touch him too, burying his fingers in the dark curls of hair that spiral over his forehead.

“Maybe not,” he says, “but I’m still going to enjoy doing it.”

With an easy use of force, he pushes them both back down onto the bed. Despite all their proud words, they don't fight it when he joins them.

**Author's Note:**

> [Skali's tumblr](https://skalidra.tumblr.com/)
> 
> [Fire's tumblr](https://skalidra.tumblr.com/)


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